The Uncommon Cold
by balanced insanity
Summary: Based off of the superstition that if you sneeze...someone is thinking of you. HD Slash oneshot, read and review!


Thanks to **Crick118**, who gave me this awesome challenge fic! I hope I did your idea justice!

Disclaimer: Since J.K. Rowling is my hero, I shall not take credit for my favorite couple…

Sidenote: This is based off of the superstition that if you sneeze, someone is thinking of you. Just so you know...

The Uncommon Cold.

"But of course, _you_ wouldn't know what it feels like to be wanted, would you Potter?"

"Shut your face, Malfoy."

"I'm sure your parents are glad they snuffed it. Anyone would go to drastic lengths to get away from you, Scarhead."

"Malfoy, get your stupid ferret face out of my way." Harry glared at the aristocratic spoiled brat in front of his escape. Malfoy smirked, obviously pleased with himself.

"Seemed to have touched a nerve, Potty, haven't I? Look around you; since mudbloods, traitors, half-breeds, and the dead don't count…that leaves you with the idiot Longbottom and Loony Lovegood. Face it Potter, you're nothing but a sachsnncstt."

"A what!?" Harry fired up. It would be like Malfoy to insult him with words that he did not know. He would pay.

Malfoy brought out an embroidered handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed lightly at his pale, pointed nose.

"Excuse me, I sneezed."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Malfoy's sudden politeness. He was sure this was the nicest Malfoy had ever been to Harry.

But after hearing Harry's outburst of happiness at his expense, Draco snapped back to his domineering sneer.

"And just _what_ is so funny, Potter?" He spat.

Unable to come up with a worthy retort, Harry rocked back and forth on his heels, buying time, and eventually said in a singsong voice, "Someone's thinking of you…"

Malfoy scoffed. "Potter, if that rubbish were true, I would have a never ending cold."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Malfoy." He left with Ron and Hermione, who had creepily appeared at his side, to retreat to the Great Hall for dinner, leaving Malfoy surrounded by his usual Slytherin cronies, feeling outwitted.

Draco walked down to the dungeons, Harry's head swimming in and out of focus in his mind. Why did he always feel so…fuzzy after confrontations with Potter? _Well, that was obvious_, Draco thought, blushing. He was embarrassingly, head over heels in love with Harry. But he'd never admit to it. Never.

Draco stalked angrily down dank corridors alone; he had ditched his friends, telling them he needed to grab his bag from their common room. He heard the unmistakable ragged breathing of Argus Filch and ducked behind a suit of armor. Sure, he was on good terms with the caretaker, but he didn't particularly fancy an awkward conversation with him at the moment. Not when Draco's head was full of nasty thoughts involving Harry…and whipped cream.

Draco had a rather dreamy expression on his face when he realized that dinner had started a good ten minutes ago. He continued down the hall, composing himself, trying to push Harry to the far back of his mind, but the boy stubbornly stayed in his rightful place in the front. Draco surprised himself with a great sneeze and spun around; making sure no one was stalking in the shadows, and "thinking of him" as Potter had put it. When he was sure there were no stealthy admirers, Draco acted like nothing of the sort had happened, and walked back to the Great Hall, with Harry still on his mind.

"Harry…Draco Malfoy is looking at you."

Harry turned around in his seat for a good look at the Slytherin table. His eyes sought out Malfoy, but he seemed to be in a deep conversation with Crabbe. This was odd, for Harry was not aware that Crabbe _could _speak.

"No he's not, what are you talking about?"

Hermione looked smug, and Ron a bit annoyed as he stuffed more pudding into his mouth.

"You must have missed him," Hermione mused, sending Harry a knowing look that the Boy-Who-Lived did not return.

"Look!"

Harry spun around fast and met Malfoy's eyes; both of them looked down embarrassed, pink spots forming on Draco's pale face.

Ron rolled his eyes and shoved a small bit of bronze into Hermione's hand underneath the table.

Harry sensed what was going on. "Would you guys just stop it?" He brought his voice down, for his random outburst had caused many stares. "Your whole, Draco-likes-me theory is getting quite old."

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw something behind Harry that the Gryffindor hadn't noticed. Ron looked unsure of whether to laugh or run away.

"First off, even if he is gay, he completely hates me," Harry rambled on, unaware of his friends' faces, "I suppose you too weren't paying attention at this morning's spat, but he just about insulted everyone of my friends and fam- hey!"

Harry was spun around rather forcefully on his seat and was looking into the grey blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. His eyebrows were raised and his lips were smirking in their usual manner, but in a more mischievous way. Before Harry could ask what he was doing, Malfoy grabbed the pepper shaker from the Gryffindor house table and shook it quite violently right on Harry's nose.

"I, what are youactchcoo!"

Malfoy pushed Harry down on the bench, straddling him, and began kissing Harry fiercely. Harry did not move for a moment, looking around the room in alarm, as the entire Great Hall fell silent. But…oh my god. Harry decided he could look at the Great Hall any old time, but who knew how many more times in his young life would Draco Malfoy slam him down onto a bench for a snog session. Ignoring the gasps of horror or whoops of approval, Harry kissed Draco back.

Draco pushed himself slowly off of Harry and whispered, "I was thinking of you."

Harry broke into a disbelieving grin, "No shit!" He pulled Draco back to his level; he wasn't close to being finished yet.

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